Thicker Than Water
by RissaAngel
Summary: Regulus Black's death was not quite defined in OotP, and Sirius didn't know much about it. Could it be possible that he played a bigger role in it than he thought? One-shot.


**Thicker Than Water  
**Larissa  
October 2004  
Disclaimer: None of these characters are mine, they belong to JK Rowling, and the WB...

* * *

Many years later, Sirius Black was talking about his brother with a mixture of pity and vehemence while reflecting on the Black family tree.

"No, he was murdered by Voldemort. Or on Voldemort's orders, more likely, I doubt Regulus was ever important enough to be killed by Voldemort in person. From what I found out after he died, he got in so far, then panicked about what he was being asked to do and tried to back out. Well, you don't just hand in your resignation to Voldemort. It's a lifetime of service or death."

If he only knew...

* * *

_I can't do it, _Regulus thought to himself, making himself comfortable at a pub located in the infamous Knockturn Alley. A few witches and wizards were scattered here and there at the small, round tables, and a dark figure in the corner looked eerily like a vampire, or, at least what Regulus had always pictured a vampire to look like. Regulus was sitting at the bar, solely for the purpose of attracting the barman's attention for frequent refills. He had been doing this for over an hour already, and though he wasn't out and out drunk, he concluded that he was what Rosier would have termed as "half-pissed."

One of the his thin hands was wrapped around his tumbler, now only half full of firewhiskey, and the other was idly tearing the edges of his napkin off and rolling them into small balls. Most of the napkin was gone now, and he brushed the scraps off the bar with his left forearm, trying to ignore the familiar tingling of a certain mark that was hidden under his sleeve.

Regulus let out a low hiss of air and broke his gaze away from his firewhiskey long enough to gaze across the bar. An old mirror was hanging behind the rows of musty liquor bottles, and one large, crooked crack ran down from the right corner, cutting Regulus's reflection at the shoulder. Bloody hell, he looked terrible. His grey eyes had dark shadows underneath of them, and his forehead was lined in worry. A dark shadow of a beard was across his face, aging him past his nineteen years. It suddenly dawned on him that he looked quite a bit like his father, a thought that he found to be a bit unnerving, where once he would have thought it to be admirable.

His distinguished Black looks were going to pot with lack of care and a bit of the drink. Mother would be appalled. _Merlin, help me_, he thought, and quickly took another sip of whiskey.

He ran a hand through his dark hair, which was atypically long for him. Regulus, under his mother's instruction and Black pride, usually kept his hair short cropped. He never minded this, as it distinguished himself from Sirius, who had let his hair was grow out after escaping their mother's clutches. The two brothers had always looked similar, though Regulus was a bit shorter and thinner. Even during his schooling, the professors would slip up and call him Sirius, something neither brother took as a compliment.

Of course, Regulus could easily blame Sirius for the current state of his looks. He took a quick swig of whiskey and shook his head. No, no matter how much he'd like to blame Sirius, he knew he couldn't. The current situation he was in was purely his fault, and he sincerely doubted that there would be any solving it.

"Black."

Regulus quickly spun around his seat to see the tall, gaunt figure of Severus Snape standing before him. Severus, Regulus noted, didn't look much better.

"Severus," he greeted, waving to the empty seat next to him. "Glad you decided to come. Have a seat, I'll buy another round."

"You look like you don't need anymore to drink." Snape slid onto the barstool next to him.

"Do I?" Regulus replied, and he gave a short, sharp laugh. "Well, I didn't ask you to meet me here so that you could start an intervention."

"I wasn't planning on it."

"Of course you weren't."

Regulus flagged the old barman to bring over two more whiskeys, and quickly downed the last of what was in his tumbler. Silently, he was relieved that Snape had actually turned up to meet him. Sirius had been mirthless to Snape during their first year at Hogwarts, so that when Regulus started the next year, Snape didn't exactly have high expectations for the younger Black boy. Regulus tacked this fact onto to his mental list of reasons to resent his brother.

In the beginning, Snape had treated Regulus with the same contempt that he usually reserved for Sirius and the other Gryffindors. Though Bella permitted Regulus to hang around her friends on several occasions, Snape hardly tolerated him. Regulus tried very hard during the next six years to prove himself different from Sirius, and finally, during his fifth year, Snape had warmed up to him. Barely.

"So how have you been?" Regulus asked casually, nodding to the barman, who placed the flaming drinks down on the counter in front of them. Snape stared at the drinks, and Regulus could make out the orange flames reflecting in his cool, black eyes. Both boys quickly blew out the flames that danced on their drinks, and Snape took a sip before replying.

"Fine."

Snape never had been very talkative, so Regulus tried to make a little conversation, wondering how he would build up to the reason he requested Snape's presence in the first place. "I didn't see you at Bellatrix's wedding. You missed a..._remarkable_ celebration." And that was putting it mildly.

"I had a prior engagement. I sent an owl to them about it."

"Ah, right then. Anything interesting?"

"I doubt that it would interest _you_." Snape said, eyeing Regulus over the rim of his glass. Regulus frowned slightly and shot a look at Severus.

They sat in an uncomfortable silence as they sipped on their whiskey, ignoring the cackles from the goblins in the corner. Finally, Severus turned towards Regulus.

"Are you planning on telling me exactly why I am here?" His voice was soft and cool, and Regulus found he was irritated by it.

"Did you have other plans?" Regulus replied hotly. He had been rolling balls out of the scraps of napkin again, and he set his tumbler down onto the counter with a soft thud that sent the balls scattering across the counter and onto the floor.

Snape's face went rigid. "I have much better things to do then sit here in a pub with a drunk, spoiled, arrogant little—"

"Severus, no. Please don't leave. My apologies," Regulus interrupted, raising his palms in submission.

Severus did not reply, instead, he glared at Regulus, his long fingers drumming the counter steadily.

"You're here because—well, I wanted to ask you..." Regulus wasn't quite sure that he could say it. "The thing is, Severus, I've been asked to do something for the Dar—"

This time it was Regulus who was interrupted by Snape. He swiftly grabbed the collar of Regulus's robes and jerked him forward. Regulus could smell the firewhiskey on Snape's breath and attempted to resist Snape's grip by shrinking away, but Snape held him tight.

"Are you _mad_?" Snape snarled.

"Am _I _mad? What are _you_ doing?"

"You asked me to meet you at a pub," Snape hissed, jerking his head to the other people sitting at the tables, most of who were staring at the boys curiously, "to discuss certain business that should not be discussed publicly?"

"I—I wasn't thinking."

"Clearly." Snape yanked Regulus up onto his feet, throwing a couple of coins upon the bar before loosening his grip. "Follow me. Now." Regulus stared at him; fully knowing his mouth was hanging agape. He gave one last look of longing to his whiskey, but Snape was already halfway out the door. Sighing, Regulus followed him, trying to steady himself as the room seemed to turn onto its side. Perhaps he was more than half-pissed.

After exiting the pub, Snape turned left at the corner, away from the line of shops and the usual strip that most frequented in Knockturn Alley. Regulus staggered behind him, in a half-jog, ignoring the hag in the corner who tugged on his cloak, asking for spare change.

"I'll hex you lot!" she cried threateningly after them, shaking a bony fist.

There was barely a trickle of light coming from the streetlamps, and the farther that Snape blazed through the alleys, the less light there was to lead the way. Regulus nearly fell onto the ground as he tried to even his pace with Severus's.

"Where are we going?"

"Away from prying eyes."

Snape took them through the maze of alleys that Regulus had never seen before. In one long alley in particular, it seemed that there were even voices whispering out to them from the brick walls. Regulus had frequented Knockturn Alley since his younger years, but he had never been in this area before, and he found himself feeling slightly anxious. He was about to ask Snape if he could hear the voices too, but one steely glare from the older Death Eater was enough to convince him to keep his mouth clamped shut.

Finally, after rounding two more blocks, Snape spun around and faced him. They were standing in a dimly lit corner, behind a large trash bin.

"Oh, now, couldn't you have found a better space than this?" Regulus asked, trying to conceal his worry by replacing it with his usual haughtiness, wrinkling his nose at the stench of rotting food and who knows what else.

"No."

Regulus's shoulders sagged slightly. "Right, well..."

"Spit it out, Black."

"He's asked me to—he's assigned me the task of..." His voice faltered. The weight of the words was on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't bring himself to speak them.

"You're trying my patience."

Regulus thought back to his summons to the Dark Lord. He had expected to apparate into the usual circle of Death Eaters, and was surprised to find himself alone with his own cousin, Bellatrix LeStrange. Regulus had always been somewhat apprehensive around Bellatrix. Even during her childhood she possessed a vicious temper, and now that she was one of Voldemort's most devoted followers, it had only gotten worse. Regulus knew that if he respected her and stayed out of her hair, they could get along without much trouble.

_The Dark Lord has plans for you_, she had told him. Then she explained to Regulus that he was to arrange a meeting with Sirius to try to find out where the Potters were living. _Tell him you're seeking reconciliation so that he'll see you_, she ordered, and continued to indulge him in his special 'duty' for the Dark Order. If Sirius was unwilling to give out the information, Regulus was to torture it out of him. _Oh, don't look at me like that Reggie, _Bellatrix had scolded, mocking him with his pet name from his mother_, he abandoned you a long time ago. Potter is his brother now. You should be grateful for this opportunity. _In the end, information or no, he was to kill Sirius. It would be the message that the Potters needed.

Bella had told him all of this without even blinking an eye. Obviously, the death of her cousin didn't faze her at all. After she had disapparated, Regulus took the opportunity to retch behind a tree.

Regulus blinked his eyes and focused on his current situation. "It's Sirius, Snape. He's asked me to take care of Sirius." Regulus's voice was urgent.

"Take care of him?" Severus repeated slowly. "I'm assuming that you're not supposed to take care of him in a matronly sense." Snape's mouth twisted up into a caustic smirk.

A flush started to creep up Regulus's neck. "How dare you make jokes at my expense?"

"I do what I please."

Regulus glared at Snape, sincerely regretting his decision to ask his old housemate for advice. At the time, it had seemed like a good idea. He was really the only person that Regulus felt he could trust with such a problem. Snape had always been the most logical person in Slytherin house.

"I shouldn't have asked you here," he replied bitterly.

"But you did."

"Yes, well, I never said that I was intelligent."

"You're certainly not acting like it at the moment," Snape replied.

"I can't do it, Snape. He's my brother. We may not have always gotten along, but I can't kill him."

His thoughts flickered back to when the Black boys were young—when he trailed Sirius around incessantly. Regulus had respected Sirius so much then, and even when Sirius left them all, he had felt a pang of sorrow. He may have covered it up with disdain and spite, but his love for his brother was there. The Black blood still ran deep in both of their veins, whether Sirius wanted to admit it or not.

"One does not simply turn down orders from the Dark Lord, Regulus."

"I know that."

Severus took a deep breath, his nostrils flaring slightly. "He'll find you if you decide to run."

"I know that, too," Regulus replied, and he flushed as his voice cracked. He felt the overwhelming urge to disapparate to nowhere—nothingness. _Perhaps I can even manage to splinch myself_.

"Don't be a dolt," Severus said suddenly. "You have to carry out the orders."

"But you don't understand. I _can't_."

"Of course you can." Snape spoke slowly and evenly. "Unless you get _caught_ or _killed_ in the process."

Regulus reflected on this statement grimly. It was true--unless he murdered his brother, he would be sacrificing his own life. He had never bargained for _this_ when Lucius convinced him to join the Order.

"So that's it? I either set myself up for life in Azkaban or death?"

He wondered, briefly, if Sirius would be able to murder his own younger brother. This wouldn't be adolescent duelling anymore; it would be a fight for life and death.

"Or murder Sirius, which isn't exactly a bad option," Snape replied dryly.

"How can you have a sense of humour about this?"

"I wasn't kidding."

Irritated with Snape's blasé attitude about the whole affair, Regulus approached him quickly, balling his fists. "I warned you, Severus," he said loudly, pulling back his fist, ready to give Snape any extra convincing that he might need.

BANG! He was caught completely off guard. In a matter of seconds, Snape had drawn his wand and Regulus was flying back through the air, directly into the trash bin. His face collided with the cool metal, and he fell onto the pavement, grunting in pain. A warm trickle of blood began to flow out of his nose, and his head was throbbing. A string of curse words erupted out of his mouth, and he could hear Snape snort in amusement.

Regulus slowly blinked his eyes, trying to regain his already distorted focus. He could just make out Snape standing with his wand pointed at Regulus's throat.

"I advise you not to try to hit me again, Black."

Regulus pushed himself up into sitting position. "You're a bastard."

Snape snorted softly. "Perhaps." He cocked his head to the side and added, "You need to be level-headed right now, Black. Don't let your emotions get tied up into all of this. You need to think of yourself--and your brother--if you really want to save him." Snape's lip had curled up slightly at the mention of Sirius.

"Maybe I'll run," Regulus said, wiping the back of his hand underneath his nose, smearing the blood across his cheek. "I could leave the night before I'm supposed to do it."

"I already told you that he'd catch you."

"No, don't you see? I have to take the chance."

"Don't do it, Regulus. The Dark Lord knows, he _always_ knows." Snape dropped his wand to his side.

"I have no other choice!"

Snape looked very serious, his eyebrows furrowed together, and his right arm twitched slightly before he outstretched it towards Regulus. "It's your choice to make, but I'm warning you, you may stand a better chance if you let yourself to get caught by the Aurors."

"And risk the Black family name?" Regulus asked incredulously as Snape helped him to his feet.

"Don't you think your life is more important than your family's reputation?" Snape asked coldly. "Everything will come out in the end, and your family is not exactly what one would consider _uninvolved_."

Regulus bristled. "You know nothing about reputation."

"I _care_ nothing for reputation." _That_, Regulus thought, _is an understatement_.

"I care about my family enough not to besmirch their name like Sirius and Andromeda. That's why I asked you for your advice, though, now that I think about it, perhaps you weren't the best one to ask." He shook his head fervently. "I'm not going to go through with this."

"Which wasn't my advice." Snape looked at Regulus irritably. "Fine," he sighed, "You go on and run. Do what you want, it's no use wasting any more breath arguing this over with you." He turned to leave, and Regulus, seizing what might be his last opportunity, quickly called out to him.

"Snape," he pleaded, his voice faltering, "if something happens—if I die—don't ever let Sirius find out." He didn't want his brother to agonize over his death and their failed relationship, if he indeed cared enough to do so. Regulus was well aware that dealing with disdain was much easier than dealing with regret.

"I wasn't planning on it."

"Of course you weren't," he replied with a grim smile.

Snape silently regarded Regulus for a moment, and he looked like he was really deliberating on what to say next. "Be careful, Black." Then he turned to leave, blending into the dark shadows, robes billowing out behind him.

Regulus replied with a bitter laugh, and watched Snape's figure skulk out of the alley.

That was the last time Regulus ever spoke to Snape. Later, when Regulus was cornered by a handful of Death Eaters, he wondered if Snape was part of the group. Perhaps he had even told the Dark Lord that Regulus directly disobeyed His orders. No, somehow, he knew that Snape hadn't betrayed him. Bella, perhaps, or maybe even Barty, who had been increasingly curious over Regulus's orders as of late.

He was unsure, however, if Snape was part of the group there to kill him. After all, Snape was smart enough not to disobey orders. The group of Death Eaters circled him, torturing Regulus with the Unforgivable Curses that he had used himself countless times.

Was that Bellatrix's laugh he heard?

A wisp of blonde hair just visible through the holes in a member's mask. Lucius? Or Barty?

His body was dropped to the ground, into a giant puddle from the autumn rain. He tried to raise his head, and a battered, but familiar face looked back at him.

Sirius?

No, not Sirius. It was his reflection. Sirius was safe—at least, he hoped so. Regulus righted himself slowly, hoping that his death would not be in vein, and faced the circle of Death Eaters bravely. He would accept his death. It was for his family, after all.

* * *

A/N: This is one of the many Regulus stories that I have floating around my hard drive. I finally got around to posting it. It will probably be revised a few times before I'm satisfied.


End file.
